


Sparrow Down

by Solrika



Series: Blackwatch Boys [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, blackwatch dad gabe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 10:22:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7753942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Solrika/pseuds/Solrika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Genji joins Blackwatch. Or, rather: How Blackwatch acquires Genji.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparrow Down

 

You don’t get to be commander of Blackwatch and not see your fair share of violence, but Gabriel can’t help the moment of nausea as he watches the two Shimada heirs go dancing across the rooftops. Blackwatch knew this was going to happen–they’re not an international intelligence force for nothing–but it’s another thing entirely to watch the bald words of a report play out in realtime.

_…Genji Shimada liable to be disowned by the ruling elders of the Shimada clan…_

_…older brother, Hanzo Shimada, most likely to be chosen by the elders to arbitrate clan justice…_

_…high probability of a one-sided fight_ , Gabe remembers, watching the smaller figure ducking and weaving, hands outstretched in a plea for–what? mercy? forgiveness?

“Madre de Dios,” he murmurs, and he doesn’t know whether it’s a curse or a prayer. It’s one thing to march into war at nineteen with a squad at your back and weapons in your hands, another entirely to be sent fleeing from your childhood home by your own brother. 

Blackwatch has been waiting for this, he tries to remind himself. They need an informant on the Shimadas who has an intimate view into the clan’s workings, and who better than a disgraced heir? But this–-Gabe had been expecting a true fight, perhaps even one with Hanzo retreating to lick his wounds. Not this one-sided hunt. 

There’s a burst of blue, a distant howling of wind, and Gabe pushes himself faster, catching up to the shadows of the duel just as what’s left of the younger Shimada goes tumbling to the ground. 

Blackwatch is in luck–-Hanzo doesn’t check the body. Their rooftop watcher comms in with an all-clear, and Gabe is one of the first of his squad sprinting towards the remains of Genji Shimada.

“Fuck, do we even have enough body for a burial?” His second for this mission, Delilah, sounds as shaky as Gabe feels. 

“Get a biotic field up and call the extraction team.” Dropping to his knees beside the bloody mass of bone and muscle, Gabe feels for a pulse. It’s faint and too fast, but amazingly, miraculously, it’s there. “He’s alive-–Where’s the fucking medics?”

“ETA ten minutes.” Delilah flips open one of the biotic capsules, and then joins Gabe in staunching what they can. “Poor thing. Least the bastards could’ve done is give him a clean death.”

“Yeah, well.” Gabe grits his teeth, keeps moving, ignores the anguished little noises the kid is making each time they push a bandage to a wound. “Means we got something to salvage.” 

The kid’s heart is still beating by the time the extraction team has their cloaked heli-plane hovering overhead. Gabe is the one to carry him up, one arm wrapped tightly around the heartbreakingly light burden. 

Angela is ready for them at base, and she and her team of doctors and surgeons whisks Blackwatch’s newest ward away into the medbay. Gabe is left standing by the doors, hands empty and tac gear still stained with blood. 

He comes back, later–after washing himself and gear, after cleaning his guns and preventing McCree from getting himself in trouble _yet again_ –to hear the diagnosis.

“He’ll live,” Angela tells him, sweaty and worn but triumphant. “We’ve got him stabilized and healing.” 

“What about the…” Gabe waves a hand, unsure how to tactfully phrase _total loss of limbs_.

“Torbjorn and his pet roboticists.” Angela grins. “We’ll build him up better than even before.”

“Hm.” Gabe wants to ask if maybe they should wait to consult the kid about this, but Angela is already giving him a wave and heading towards the guest quarters. He hesitates, for a moment, and then pushes his way into the medbay.

They’re keeping the kid in one of the private rooms at the back. He’s asleep–or sedated–when Gabe peeks in, and doesn’t even twitch when Gabe sits down on the stool besides him.

“Sorry you had such a rough welcome,” Gabe murmurs. The kid’s face is torn and ripped to pieces, but in between the stitches he looks so young. Gabe’s hands twitch in his lap, longing to reach out and comfort–-the way his abuelita would when he was sick. He wants to croon _Habibi, habibi_ , and sing the songs his father used to whenever it was Gabe needing a pair of arms around him.  “But you’re here now, sí? And we’ll keep you safe.” 

He pulls the covers up, tucks them gently under the sharp little chin. “You watch, we’ll take good care of you. I promise.” A long sigh. “I promise.”

 


End file.
